


Round and Around

by Skippee



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance, post-darlington 500, pre-hollywoodland
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 14:40:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14310906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skippee/pseuds/Skippee
Summary: In the bunker or on a mission, Wyatt can't help but to orbit round and around Lucy





	Round and Around

Wyatt thought he'd left his childhood sinking in a stolen car in a nameless lake, but things have a way of coming back around. It was just a bit, he told himself as he wove a story.  Enough to make a connection. Still, the truth managed to slip out between the lies ready on his tongue. He had to admit it felt good to get it off his chest (he would realize later that this was turning into a habit, baring his soul to the men they left behind in a time that was not his own).  When he looked up again, Lucy hovered in the doorway that had been empty only moments before. He thought he'd been more careful this time with the shreds of his past. The proverbial cat was out of the bag, though, and it was getting away from him. Later he wondered if he hadn't known the whole time she would be there, if some part of him had wanted her to know.  Maybe it was a test, maybe she’d pull back from the darkness he thought he’d left behind, but there she was, and she was his light instead.

They rattled down dirt roads together, arms wrapped round and around each other, dancing round and around another truth.  “Wildly claustrophobic” escaped his lips, and he mentally kicked himself, but he wasn't sure if it was for nearly slipping “wildly in love” or that it hadn’t slipped at all. Or maybe he hadn't said it because “love” didn't capture enough.  The trust. Laughing or crying (or sometimes both) in the face of life and death dangers. Respect that is earned, not demanded. Impossible partners in an impossible reality. He felt her smiling into his shoulder. They were close, so close, when the hatch opened and they tumbled out into the blinding brightness and the magic was broken. _Someday_ , he told himself.

Back in the bunker, he kept finding himself next to her, or maybe she was finding him (did he dare hope?).  Rufus was tinkering with the lifeboat again and needed extra hands, so the three of them dipped and spun and reached around the room, performing again in the dance they'd perfected over the last several months.  They’d learned each other's rhythms, knew their steps. All the while his hands floated to her arms, her waist, brushed fingers to hers. Round and around.

There were mornings together, side by side at the table under their single, yellowed window in the kitchen. The others wandered in and out, the coffee pot gurgled, dishes clattered.  Her hair tickled his arm as she poured over one book after another, searching for any event they might have affected or a hint to Rittenhouse’s next move. He smiled and wished for a moment he could paint, or do _something,_ to capture the beauty of a simple morning together.  He propped his feet on her chair in the afternoons, or bumped her elbow with his when Rufus gathered everyone to demand they learn a new card game.

They were amassing a formidable library of haphazardly-stacked books Agent Christopher was liberating from Lucy’s former office (a few at a time) and ones that had survived Mason Industries’ explosion.  He didn’t give it much thought until he heard a crash coming from the room they’d dedicated to it and found Lucy sitting among the wreckage, bemoaning the lack of any real organization (The book was right _here_ in her old office, she told him).  The bunker had plenty of old pallets and crates, (probably infested with something, but he tried not to think about that), and soon enough he had shelves lining the walls and a new blister on his palm.  It felt better to be doing something, anything. While the company was great, he couldn’t help but feeling like they spent each day looking over their shoulders, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Every swing of the hammer peeled away a little bit more of the pent-up energy that had been trailing him.  

Lucy’s reaction was worth every second.  He wasn't sure he'd seen her smile so much in months.  Of course she wanted to start “moving in” right away, and he tried his best to help, but after an adorably stern talking-to for putting confederate generals next to the Great Depression, he settled for just passing her the titles she requested.  They wound through the stacks and the dance continued. Their hands brushed as he handed over two more books, and she hit him with a smile so dazzling he thought for a moment the world was spinning faster. Cursed as they were to suffer an interruption every time he got up the nerve to confess his feelings, he settled for an arm around her shoulders as they surveyed a job well done.  The bear hug she wrapped him in and the whispered _thank you_ caught him by surprise.  Before he knew what he was doing, he’d lifted her off her feet and spun in a circle, pulling her close.  They were planets in orbit or maybe she was the star, and every time she smiled, gravity pulled a little harder.  

  



End file.
